Friends
by igirisexual
Summary: Ivan Braginsky is achingly alone. He travels around the world to ask others to be his friends. They either say no, say yes and not mean it, or punch him square in the face. There is one friend, however, who he didn't even think to ask. Human names used, but still Canonverse.


Ivan had always been lonely. His sisters would stray from him or frighten him. He was often thought of as a terrifying murderer. He was a gentle man, really. All he wanted were friends. Too often, he would look at another nation and offer a kind smile, and they would recoil in terror. Today, he had decided to go on a great search for friends.

His first thought was to speak to the Baltics. Raivis was so cute and small, and Toris and Eduard were nice guys! A perfect place to start. That, and they were always in his house anyway. He headed downstairs from his room, traversing the halls of his mansion until he finally came across the trembling trio.

"_Privyet_!" he chirped merrily, approaching the three with a bright smile. All three of them tensed, and their skin crawled at the sight of him. "I have a question for you three!"

"Is it about something as stupid as your food? It tastes terrible," Raivis quivered, and Toris let out a little squeak of fear.

"Shut up, Raivis!" he whimpered, tugging at the younger nation's sleeve.

Ivan tilted his head, before frowning. "No, although my food is nice." He puffed quietly, placing one hand to Raivis's head. He gently ruffled the little nation's hair, before dropping his hand. "You are all my friends! Aren't you?"

There was a pause in conversation, where Eduard and Toris shared a glance, and Raivis just cried as his spine was forced downward a little more today. "U-uh, sure," Eduard said after this moment, before coughing. "I have chores to do." And he fled.

"So do I!" huffed Toris, although he felt a little bad for leaving Raivis by himself. _Well!_ He thought. _He got himself into this one!_

"You are my friend, Raivis," Ivan hummed, bending down so that he was eye-to-eye with the little nation.

"Why don't I go and make you a friendship present?" Raivis said in a squeak, shaking with fear. "Yes, I'll do that."

"Oh!" he chirped. "Okay! Bring it to me later, then!" Ivan hummed, and let him go.

As he watched Raivis scurry off and cry out for his fellow Baltics, he frowned and ran a hand through his hair. It was not as if he couldn't see behind their words. He knew they were terrified. As nice and polite as he tried to be, they were always afraid. He couldn't help but feel as if they didn't even like him in the least.

He wavered himself the idea of trying to befriend Gilbert, and then laughed, because there was no way in the world that Gilbert would even look at him without either mocking him or running for the hills. Ludwig was out of the question, simply because Gilbert would jump in before Ivan could try. He'd tried to be friends with the German once, he remembered. The Italy brothers were terrified of him. He frowned as he returned to his room, and hesitantly picked up his phone.

He dialed the correct number, and pursed his lips as he waited for the nation on the other end to pick up. There was a break in the ringing, and the call was answered with a soft '_Hello? Matthew speaking.'_

"Hello, Matthew," Ivan said quietly, fiddling with the cord of the phone and sitting down upon his bed.

'_Oh.. Ivan?'_ came the reply after a too-long pause.

"Yes." He huffed. "I was wondering if you'd like to be my friend?" he asked, and sat with baited breath.

'_Oh, er_,' Matthew said quietly. '_Is something wrong?_' Ivan could almost hear his frown.

"No," he murmured. "I just want to ask, because I have no friends, and you are a nice quiet man." There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then some crackling, and a new voice blurted aggressive things into the receiver.

'_Hey! Stop trying to force my bro to be your little minion or slave or something, you freak!_' Alfred spat, and then the phone was hung up rather brashly. Ivan tensed and slowly put down his phone. He felt rather upset about losing one of his potential friends. Matthew was indeed a very soft-hearted and gentle man, and Ivan always thought he and the Canadian had been kindred spirits, what with that and their abundances of snow.

France had been his next stop. Ivan was terribly worried about seeing Francis again, not even having the nerve to call before dropping in at his house. They were close to being friends, but Ivan had never been sure. Francis smiled at him sometimes at world meetings, and gave him little compliments every now and then, but he had dismissed them as tactless flirting. Ivan had passed by a florist on the way to visit the Frenchman, and asked quietly for a small bouquet of lilies. His French was very rusty, but he simply tried to say what he knew while focusing on the florist, and ended up having the bouquet practically thrown at him, free of charge.

He knocked upon Francis's door, letting out a soft sigh. He waited a minute or two, and turned to leave with a heavy heart. Then, the door swung open, and Francis stood there, panting and hair still dripping. "Oh, Ivan! _Salut_." He huffed, rubbing the towel he held through his blond locks and then laughing softly. "I was in the shower, _désole_."

"Hello," Ivan nodded, and shyly handed over the flowers. "I have just come to visit, I am sorry I didn't call."

"Oh, these are for me?" Francis smiled, and took the flowers gratefully. "_Merci beaucoup_, they are very nice. Come in, Ivan."

Ivan smiled a bit, hope lighting up in his heart. Perhaps he could be Francis's friend. He stepped inside, making sure his footfalls were light and didn't make too much noise. Francis scurried about and set up a vase on the table, before stowing the lilies in it and showing them off as a centerpiece in the room. "Is there a reason to your visit?"

"I wanted to ask if we could be friends," Ivan said quietly. Francis, like everyone else, tensed, and looked down.

"Ah, apologies," Francis sighed. "I am not sure that my boss would like it if I got too close to you."

"But we are allies!"

"Apologies."

He considered stopping in at Arthur's house after being so casually rejected by Francis. Ivan shunned the idea quickly. Arthur and he had a little grudge, didn't they? The grumpy man would probably try to place a spell on Ivan to keep him out. There was one, final option, but he hated even thinking about it. He could try Alfred.

Even the thought was a disaster. He arrived at Alfred's with apprehension, and knocked heavily on the door.

"Yo, coming!" the obnoxious voice called from inside, and Ivan felt sick. He should just run now, he should get away before Alfred opens the door. He only had the time to turn before Alfred swung the door open. "Ew, it's Ivan."

"H-hah," Ivan said quietly, turning back around to face the bullying American. "Hello, Alfred."

"What the hell're you doing here?" he puffed, crossing his muscled arms. "Get out of my house, you freaky communist."

"I'm not a communist anymore," Ivan sighed. All thoughts of diplomacy were making a beeline for the window. "I've just come to ask you a question."

"I'm not gonna become one with you." Alfred jutted in.

"No, I wanted to know if you'd be my friend," Ivan frowned. "Although I don't particularly want to be yours."

"Ew," Alfred scoffed, narrowing his eyes and uncrossing his arms. It was hard not to note that his fists were clenched. "Just go! I don't wanna talk to you. You've pissed me off enough today with trying to take over my brother!"

"Can you at least hear me out, I-"

Ivan's sentence was cut off as Alfred's knuckles barreled into his nose. Ever a violent young man, Ivan reflected. He stumbled backward, but did not fall; he was able to keep his footing despite the force he had been struck with.

The door was then slammed, and Ivan simply whimpered. His nose was sore, and bleeding now. He simply stared at the closed door.

Ivan made it home somehow, amazed at that fact because he had been stumbling and on the verge of crying for a little while. The Baltics avoided him when he finally returned to his home. He spent an hour alone in his room, fixating on it, and hiding himself away in there. He hadn't even bothered to turn on a light, and as it came to night-time, the entire room was swamped by darkness. He only glanced up from his pitiful curled position when there was a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" he called quietly, voice cracking when he did so.

"It's me."

This voice was not one he'd heard today, but he definitely recognized it. Smooth and eloquent. The only thing that made him question its owner was the volume. Too quiet. The door slowly opened, and Yao stepped in. He flicked the light on, finding it in no time, and then frowned down at the pitiful nation. "Hey, Ivan."

"Oh, Yao," Ivan murmured, pushing himself off the ground and standing on tottering feet. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the bleary light, but once he had, he focused his gaze on the Chinese man waiting by the doorway. "_Privyet_."

"Ivan, I got a call from Alfred. He said he still hates you, but is sorry for punching you." Yao recited quietly, eyes half-lidded as he observed the Russian. "You've got blood on you."

Yao was acting a bit more solemn than normal, and it certainly took Ivan off-guard. "Alfred punched me." He echoed, and Yao narrowed his eyes.

"You didn't clean it up?" Yao huffed quickly, losing his quiet demeanor. "Come on," he frowned, pulling Ivan by the arm out to the bathroom. Once there, he washed and dabbed at the dazed Russian's face, cleaning it properly, and then drying it gently with a towel.

Before Ivan could speak another word, Yao had brought him downstairs to the spacious living room, put him to the couch, and grabbed a blanket for the two of them. "It's too cold in your house," Yao complained, sitting down and snuggling up under the blanket. Ivan didn't need the duvet, but curled under it nonetheless. "Alfred's house, stupid and dumb as it is, has some nice beaches. I should take you there sometime."

"Mm.. I don't think I wish to go and visit America any time soon," Ivan huffed, reaching up and touching his still-sore nose. "Today has been a very long and very upsetting day."

"What happened? Aside from visiting Alfred." Yao queried. "I will give whoever made you feel bad very bad food!"

"Thank you," Ivan murmured, resting back against the couch. "I visited Francis, and tried to call Matthew. I thought about visiting Arthur, but I decided not to."

"Mm? So what was the issue?" he huffed.

"I asked them all a question and.. I've found myself all alone again, Yao," Ivan murmured. "I don't have a single friend in this world."

"Ivan."

"Yao?"

"You do realise," he coughed, going a little red-cheeked at how he had to make a dumb and mushy statement. "That you never asked me."

"Oh," Ivan gasped softly, and felt a wave of idiocy. "Are you my f-"

"You don't need to ask!" Yao huffed quickly, and threw his little arms around Ivan underneath the blanket. "You are my friend, Ivan Braginsky."

Ivan whimpered and felt his heart lighten, and he put his arms around Yao too, hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he huffed softly, shifting back so he could hide his damp eyes against Yao's shoulder. "Thank you."

"No need to be so sentimental," Yao huffed, although he rubbed gentle circles into Ivan's back anyway. "You should know that by now, you big lug."

* * *

**friendship is the best ship the end**


End file.
